


Outmatched

by PinboardButterfly



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen is awkward, Dorian is oblivious, First Kiss, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 05:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12162345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinboardButterfly/pseuds/PinboardButterfly
Summary: Dorian schemes to get the good Commander alone - but he's not the only one who wants to see the two of them together.(Half-arsed plot, but good for humour + romance)





	Outmatched

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse the shitty plotting of this piece but I was just dying to write some Cullrian fanfiction; these two idiots have my heart and soul right now as I'm still in love with Dragon Age.

Well, Dorian had had just about enough of this.

For weeks, they’d danced about one another like Orlesian nobles at court. Dorian Pavus had seen enough of that to fill a lifetime’s worth – and if Dorian was anything, it wasn’t patient. He had simple principles. He went after things he liked. And he liked the Inquisition’s Commander _very_ much. The issue with this being: Cullen was inherently awkward, and altogether quite shy, meaning it was incredibly difficult to tell whether he was being coy, subtle, or merely disinterested. But Dorian was good at reading people. It was a gift, one hammered into him at a young age. So, maybe _not_ a gift. A talent, then. One that he was prepared to utilise fully, if it meant getting to see what was beneath all that ridiculous red garb the Commander insisted on wearing.

The first person he went to was Josephine. Easy to find, always stuck behind her desk in her office, meticulously smoothing over relations with nobles in the Inquisition’s circle of influence. All rather dull, but Dorian understood its importance, even if it meant he avoided the woman like the Blight.

“Ah, Lord Pavus.” Her thick Antivan accent held a particular rigidness that had, quite some time ago, assured Dorian of her views on his heraldry. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Why, _yes_ , actually, Lady Ambassador. Our good Commander – he has days off, no?”

Josephine furrowed her brow. “Indeed.”

Dorian grinned. “Excellent. I thought so – although not that I’d been able to tell. Do you pry him from the war table at the end of a council session? Don’t answer that. When does he next take time off?”

“Tomorrow, I think. Is… is there any particular reason you wish to know?”

“No.” Dorian waved his hand in the air dismissively, backing out of the room with a small (if somewhat mocking) bow. “Thank you for your help, Lady Ambassador.”

Josephine smiled, but said nothing as he left.

Dorian’s next stop was Skyhold’s gardens. He rather liked the gardens, what with the absurd amount of Chantry sisters loitering there that would scatter like frightened mice upon his arrival. Plus, it was quiet, and the flowers were pretty. And _even_ better – it was where he held his chess matches with the Commander, the highlight of his week. He couldn’t even remember how they’d started but they’d become an integral part of his time at Skyhold, and was loathe to miss even one. It was one of the only times that Cullen was open with him, let down his guard – Dorian insisted it was flirting, while Cullen squirmed and blushed and insisted it wasn’t – even if it was only for a little while. But today, the Commander had disappeared off to train recruits, and Dorian knew that Cole would be sitting by the elfroot, which was where he headed without delay.

The spirit sat, cross-legged, in the grass next to a perfectly functioning and perfectly empty stone bench. As Dorian got closer, he smiled to see the boy entwining flowers together, rather clumsily, between his fingers. He folded his arms and raised his eyebrows.

“Flower crowns, my my. Now, how did you know I’ve got a soft spot for those?”

Cole glanced up, strange, otherworldly eyes flickering back and forth as he spoke. “He gave you one, once. It was warm and bright and _wrong_ , so wrong, all wrong, but he was so pleased and you took it anyway. He was beautiful, a thousand shards of glass in the sunlight. A thousand shards, all wreathed about his neck.”

At once, Dorian dropped his arms and swallowed thickly.

“Yes. You know, it’s terribly unnerving to just go delving into someone’s memories like that. And I was having _such_ a good morning, too.”

Cole scrambled to his feet instantly, wringing his hands nervously. “I – I made you sad. I didn’t mean to.”

Dorian waved away his attempt at an apology, and cleared his throat. “Nonsense. It takes more than a few old flames to make Dorian Pavus squirm, don’t you know?”

Without saying anything more, Cole thrust out the little ring of flowers still held between his hands. Dorian hesitated, for only a moment, before taking it with a small, rueful smile.

“You, and the Commander…” Cole dipped his hat. “Just be you. He is so gentle, and feels so much pain, pain that I cannot, no matter what I do, take away. You, I think, could ease it. He trusts you, more than anyone else here.”

And with that, Cole hurried away across the gardens, leaving Dorian to clutch at the fragile flowers in his hand, heart fluttering. _He trusts me_. The mage glanced up, brow furrowed, just a little. He couldn’t remember why he’d come here, but it didn’t matter. He felt strangely better for doing so.

Finally, Dorian went to visit the Inquisitor, who’d asked him to drop by if he had a moment that evening. By the time he did, night was falling, and he hurried through the grand hall towards the Inquisitor’s chambers. A quick rap of his knuckles on the door and he grinned at once to hear muffled cursing, the unmissable sounds of someone falling over, and a number of whispered _Shhh!_ s as footsteps sounded on the stairs.

The door opened, just a smidge, and Inquisitor Lavellan peaked out from where she stood, sheet swathed about her chest, cheeks flushed scarlet, snowy hair in disarray.

“Oh, Dorian,” she said, with no small amount of relief. “What, ah, can I do for you?”

Dorian chuckled. “Well, Inquisitor, I simply came for the book I leant you, but it seems we now have something _much_ more interesting to discuss.”

“No, no we don’t,” she protested. “Wait right here, I’ll get you your book.”

Dorian pouted playfully as she shot away up the stairs, but did as bid. “Are you sure, Inquisitor? Why, I’d love to just pop in, even it if it was just for a moment.”

Lavellan thrust Dorian’s book at him through the crack in the door, one hand still gripping the sheet wrapped about her obviously naked body. He took the tome with a wicked grin.

“That all, Dorian?”

“I don’t know, Inquisitor. Is it?”

She let out a soft laugh. “You are a bad man, Dorian.”

“I do _try_ , Lavellan.” He couldn’t keep the smirk from his face.

“You’ll hear all about it tomorrow. I promise.”

“Even the raciest parts? I do so _love_ details.”

“We’ll see. Now, get out, or there won’t be any racy parts to hear.”

Dorian nodded, and shot the Inquisitor one last smile. “Until tomorrow, then.”

As he headed back out into the grand hall, Dorian ran through the list of all the people he might have thought Lavellan would invite into her bed. She was a terrible flirt, even worse so than him, so it made the list rather extensive. The first names that came to mind were Sera and Josephine, then perhaps Iron Bull? Or Scout Harding, the Inquisitor had always had a soft spot for the dwarf. In fact, she’d flirted playfully with himself more times than he could count. And, of course, the good Commander. She did love to tease that man something rotten.

Dorian shook the idea instantly from his mind – not just because it made him feel more than a little distressed that she might have whisked him out of reach – but because, as he glanced up from the book in his hands in the grand hall, there was Commander Cullen striding towards him. Josephine had said that his day off was tomorrow, but if he was free now…

“Ah, Commander,” Dorian greeted him with a respectful bow. “Do you have a moment?”

Cullen looked quite surprised to see the mage, but after a beat returned the bow with a low nod of his head. “Lord Pavus. I was just on my way to speak to the Inquisitor – can this wait a moment?”

“Lavellan?” Dorian couldn’t help but grin. “Certainly, Commander, this can wait – but I’m not sure you want to drop in on the Inquisitor right now.”

Cullen cocked his head endearingly. Something in Dorian’s chest gave a sharp pang.

“I – I don’t seem to catch your meaning, Lord Pavus. She is…otherwise engaged?”

“Indeed.”

Cullen looked down at the clipboard in his hand, fidgeting awkwardly, another thing that Dorian found altogether charming about the man. “I – ah – you see, this report is rather urgent. Are you sure she…?”

“Cullen.”

The Commander’s name felt good in Dorian’s mouth; it was one of the few times he’d actually got to use it.

“Feel free to knock on her door. But I would make a hefty wager that you’ll get a much worse reaction than I.”

Cullen finally seemed to get the hint. His eyes went a little wider, and his mouth moved slightly, as if to formulate words that weren’t there. All he could manage was: “O-Oh. I see.”

“You do?” Dorian chuckled. “Marvellous. Here I was thinking I would have to conduct some sort of show and tell.”

The Commander suddenly looked rather pale. Dorian frowned.

“Something the matter, Commander? Surely those reports couldn’t be that imperative to the running of Skyhold. They could wait an hour or two, no?”

“Who is she with?”

The question caught Dorian off-guard. “I – I’m not sure, if I’m being entirely honest. Why is it you wish to know?”

Cullen seemed to snap out of some sort of daze, because he flushed red, and shook his head, spare hand going to rub clumsily at the back of his neck. “Ah – no reason. Thank you, Lord Pavus. Please, excuse me a moment.”

 _Bullshit_ , Dorian thought, as he watched Cullen veer right and duck into Josephine’s office. _He gave the same response I gave the Ambassador earlier._ Without hesitating, Dorian followed the Commander through, book forgotten in his hand.

Josephine glanced up when he entered her office, the door to the war room hanging open, where Dorian could see Cullen’s retreating figure.

“The Commander asked not to be disturbed, Dorian.”

Dorian snorted and made for the opposite side of the room. “I’m sure he did. And tell me, Lady Ambassador, do you regularly allow him to shoulder his burdens alone?”

Before she could answer, Dorian had left her office, following after the Commander, up the stairs, and through the double doors – which had been left ajar – to the mostly empty war room. Candles flickered warily at the corners of the table. Standing candelabras cast a gentle yellow light, chasing away the shadows lurking amidst the stone. The former Templar leant against the war table, back to the door, head bent forwards. Dorian paused, mentally assessing the situation. Then, deeming it acceptable, he closed the door behind him and came to stand beside the Commander.

Cullen sighed, eyes flickering up to take in Dorian as he approached. “This couldn’t wait?”

“I’m afraid not, Commander, not when you were in such a state of distress. Care to tell me what that was all about?”

The blond ran a hand through his curls, something that Dorian had wanted to do for an agonisingly long time.

“I just – I thought – ah. Nevermind what I thought.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Oh no, I’m not one of your advisor friends who you can shrug at and they’ll leave you be.”

“Dorian.”

Cullen’s tone was warning, but Dorian knew when someone needed to talk, and when they needed to be left alone. And right now, being alone was the last thing the Commander needed. He moved very gently, coming to settle against the table beside the ex-Templar, one hand going reassuringly to his shoulder – or at the very least to the feather mantle he wore about them. Cullen’s stern expression melted instantly. He looked terribly tired, so much so Dorian wanted in that moment nothing more than to just leave him be. But he hadn’t pushed the mage away, which meant that the Commander was in dire need of someone to talk to.

“Now,” Dorian said, smiling, only lightly, “is there something you wish to discuss?”

For just a moment, Dorian wondered if Cullen would try and shut him out again. But the former Templar relented – more like wilted, really, gripping the desk behind him tight in his hands to stop himself from sitting down entirely.

“You must know that the Inquisitor and myself…that the Inquisitor a-and I…”

Cullen visibly struggled. Dorian realised instantly what he meant.

“Oh. _Oh_.” Suddenly the room had got slightly warmer. “You two slept together?”

Cullen turned scarlet. “What? No – _no_. No, Lavellan and I never… slept together. But we’d kissed. Several times. Things were nice. Complicated, but nice. At least, I’d thought so.”

Dorian felt suddenly furious that the Inquisitor had led sweet, naïve Cullen along for so long. If she had meant to choose whoever was now in her room over the Commander, why not let him down sooner? _Certainly, don’t bring someone else into your bed while_ –

His fist tightened involuntarily. Angrily.

“Dorian?”

Cullen turned to face him, shifting just so that Dorian was forced to drop his hand from Cullen’s shoulder. Dorian swallowed, forcing himself to sound neutral. For a heartbeat, he was lost in the sincerity of the other man’s eyes.

“She shouldn’t have done this. And certainly not to you.”

“’Not to me’? I didn’t think you held such a high opinion of me, Lord Pavus.”

Dorian winced at the beratement in Cullen’s voice. Had he really not made it obvious how much he cared for the Commander? The man must be blind. It was then he remembered the weight in his hand, and his fingers tightened around the book held there. He let the silence lie, and then lifted the book, outstretched in that silence between them. It was an old one, purchased from market whilst out adventuring with Lavellan, back before she was even named head of the Inquisition. The golden lettering glittered in the light of the candlelight, and Cullen shot him a confused look, although still took it from his extended hand.

“You asked for it. Do you remember?” Dorian watched as Cullen flicked through the yellowing pages. “I was reading it in my library. You passed by, on your way to see Leliana. For some reason, it caught your attention. You asked me if you could borrow it, and I told you: certainly, after I had learnt it to our Inquisitor.”

“You…remembered that?” Cullen’s voice was dangerously gentle.

Dorian chuckled. “Of _course_ I did. A Ferelden, taking interest in one of my books? The world came crashing down that day – forget the swirling green rift in the sky.”

Finally, he’d managed to tease a laugh out of the Commander, albeit a slightly pained one. Cullen shifted a little closer, bridging the gap between them against the table, and laying the book down on it behind him. Without even thinking, Dorian reached up, and with one hand, gently turned the other man’s face towards him, gloves tracing the line of his jaw as he did so. Cullen’s eyes widened. Dorian left his thumb against the skin of his cheek, curling his forefinger against his neck. If the blond had wanted to pull away, he made no motions to. Dorian’s heart thudded against his ribs. The silence was excruciating. Fortunately for Dorian, he was well-versed in filling it.

“I will have words with Lavellan. Not even the Inquisitor gets to treat you that way. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t deserve you. You’ll find someone that does.”

Cullen said nothing for a long while, merely held Dorian’s gaze, eyes closing briefly when the mage ran his thumb against the other man’s cheek. Then –

“You’ve been asking about me.” It wasn’t a question.

“And if I have?”

“Josephine mentioned you’d been by. And Cole dropped in to tell me that you’d had words in the garden.”

“Really?” Dorian smirked. “How enlightening. Good to know that not even the spirit can hold its tongue in Skyhold. Honestly, gossip here travels faster than–”

Cullen’s hand had come up to wrap itself about Dorian’s wrist. The mage’s breath caught in his throat, fingers brushing the Commander’s stubble as it was grasped. 

“Tell me, Dorian.” Cullen’s voice was low and warm. “What is it you really want?”

Dorian chuckled bitterly. “For Tevinter to become a better place? For the Inquisition to defeat Corypheus? For my father to never try and contact me again? For every damn Chantry sister to stop acting like I’m the bloody Blight itself when I walk in a room?”

The blond’s eyes bored into him. The feel of Cullen’s fingers about his wrist sent fire through his skin.

“ _Tonight_ , Dorian. What did you want tonight?”

Dorian sighed. “My dear Commander. And I had planned this out so well in my head.”

In just a second he’d closed the gap between them, the hand that wasn’t held in Cullen’s grip snaking up the front of his armour. The taste of Cullen’s mouth was warm and sweet and slightly unexpected – not because it was wonderful, but because the Commander made absolutely no moves to reject the kiss. And, in fact, after a moment, he kissed back, the hand holding Dorian’s wrist tugging eagerly, so that their torsos bumped together.

When they broke apart, Dorian couldn’t help but smile wryly. “Well, well, Commander. And here I thought this might come across as me trying to take advantage of a man in distress.”

Cullen’s mouth brushed his own when he spoke, face flushed with a soft red that had spread down to his neck. “I, ah, rather _like_ you taking advantage of me. Not that you did. At all.”

“Is that so?” Dorian grinned, stealing another, slightly hungrier kiss from the other man, who willingly kissed back. “Perhaps Lavellan should sleep around more often. I would have got to do this a lot sooner.”

Cullen chuckled dryly. “We spend almost all our spare time together, anyway. You truly had no clue that I…?”

“No, Commander. And certainly not after you seemed to be broken up over our dear Inquisitor. It actually just makes me all the more curious as to who she does have there up with her. Care to place bets?”

“It’s Sera.”

Dorian withdrew, just slightly. “I – what?”

“Lavellan told you to go to her this evening, didn’t she?”

“Well – yes.”

“She knew I liked you. She was the first to realise, actually.”

It slowly dawned over Dorian, and he felt himself break into a wide smile. “Well, I _never_ , Commander. And here I thought that _I_ was a master of manipulation. Lavellan deserves some sort of reward for all her hard work. I’ve been outmatched.”

Cullen chuckled. “I’m just glad that it worked out well.”

Dorian went to retort, but was silenced by Cullen’s hand at his neck, and the feel of the Commander’s lips against his mouth. The other hand went to his waist, pulling him up against the blond, and he reactively entwined one hand through those curls, the other tugging at the pressure on his waist. _Perhaps,_ he thought apologetically, as the kiss deepened, and his heart quickened _, I was a little quick to judge. Just this once._


End file.
